Chapter 4 – The Humdrums of the Highway

“Life is unfair.” Sir Morris grumbled to himself as he prodded his dappled charger forward impatiently. Once again he was cheated out of an adventure. Only this time it was to his simpleton squire, Lillyan. “How insulting! How degrading! I am to be a messenger while that brat goes to face the unknown! I am the one with the training and knowledge, not her!”

Yet cruel fate had struck another blow and this one was fouler to the proud knight than any he had ever known. It was one thing to be overlooked for the throne or to be left out of every adventure his brother and his friend had undertaken. Nevertheless, to be dismissed for a child was more than Sir Morris would stand for.

“How could the Divine do this to me?” the man fumed as his conversation trailed off into a steady stream of curses. If things kept going in this manner, Sir Morris began to contemplate leaving Talleraunt behind to seek out adventure for once.

Smells of the sea drift swirled in the air as Sir Morris neared the coast. The gentle sloping hills gave way to flat coast line and rolling sand dunes. Just ahead, the port city of Layland stretched out; the sails of the ships barely visible over the low buildings. Gulls cried in the distant added pleasantly to the sounds of life in the bustling sea port.

Tallerauntian flags proudly snapped in the wind over the towers and ramparts. The soldiers that patrolled the walls were less attentive than the flags. What few guards were visible slouched against the bulwarks chatting to one another or dozing in the noonday sun. A few pointed out interesting ships or travelers while most just gossiped about the locals. Despite the amount of trade the city was involved in, there was little of the soldiers to do. Crime was low and illegal goods were scarce.

Sir Morris was surprised when he passed through the gates unopposed, despite his full military regailia. It disgusted him that the security of the kingdom had been allowed to become so lax. If he was a pirate or bandit, he could easily city and cause untold damage.

Of course, that was just it; there really were not many brigands around in the country of Talleraunt. Poverty was nearly unheard of these days with the kingdom thriving ever since the successful ending of the last war. Without poverty, the folk of Talleraunt rarely turned to criminal activities choosing peaceful lives to that of violence.

Talleraunt had also proven itself a kingdom of warriors and heroes in the Great War with the help of Sir Ballard and his valiant allies. None of the other kingdoms even considered causing trouble, which meant no battles or wars with one another.

Nevertheless, Sir Morris was put off with the undisciplined manner of the kingdoms few defenders. Soldiers had mostly become farmers or merchants so the few that still protected the towns and cities of Talleraunt were undertrained. Armor and weapons were more for display than function. Some even had rust and stains on them as if the owner had not taken the time to maintain his gear.

Several bystanders waved and smiled at Sir Morris as he passed by. Sounds of city life drifted through the street. He could hear vendors calling out to buyers, dogs barking, children playing, gulls crying, and the occasional hoof clopping on cobble stone. Bells tolling from the church in the distant tolled the time and welcomed worshippers to visit. Buzzing sound of chatter also permeated the air as ladies gossiped busily and men laughed together. Several ladies stopped to point and whisper as Sir Morris lead his horse through Layland towards the keep - large stone building in the north end of the city that housed the Lord of Layland.

As he neared the keep, Sir Morris recognized a well-dressed man exiting a tavern entitled the Gull and Gale. The man wore a steel-grey cloak that complimented his long silver hair that was neatly pulled back into a braid. His powder-blue tunic hung down to his knees, covering most of his dark grey trousers. Yet, it was the man’s electric blue eyes that stood out the most and made his appearance most remarkable.

“Well, well, look who we have here,” Sir Morris called out to the stately man. “If it isn’t the very man I am here to find. What timing, my Lord Veren.”

Lord Veren of Layland turned to address the knight on horseback. “Sir Morris, is that you?” He recognized the knight’s voice but could not see his face clearly with the hood of the moss green cloak pulled up. Lord Veren also noted the crest on the knight’s tabard: five white stars over an unsheathed silver sword on a sapphire blue field trimmed in silver. Only members of the royal family were permitted to wear those colors.

Throwing back his hood, Sir Morris revealed his dark brown hair that tussled down to around his jaw line. His neatly trimmed goatee tucked under his sturdy chin and his slender arching eyebrows rose slightly while amusement twinkled in his greyish-blue eyes. The corner of this mouth creased with the smile that was spreading across his face.

“I am pleased that you remember me, my Lord.” Sir Morris said with a hint of contempt not very well hidden. “You seem to be the first one so far. Although, I think one guard at the gate woke up for a moment with a look of recognition before falling back asleep.”

Lord Varen heaved a sigh then composed himself, “There is always room for improvement.” His words were designed to be as much a rebuke to the young knight as it was to himself for letting the city’s security slack off as much as he had. Then his court manners came back to him, “Apologies, sire. I trust you will accompany me to the castle. We have much to discuss.”

“Ah, but I must now beg your forgiveness as I cannot stay.” Sir Morris stated without a hint of regret. “All I need to tell you is that our king has commanded that you send all your knights to Windshire with all haste. In addition, he has decreed that the remainder of your forces, this means your guards and militiamen, are to be to prepare for war.” His words were laden with condescension and smug satisfaction.

“Sir!” Lord Varen shouted indignantly. “I am aware that the guard is not what it once was, yet if I send all my men away, who will keep the peace? Things have been quite for nearly a century; nevertheless, criminals would surely find this as an opportunity to make mischief. You ride into Layland alone with demands that would leave my city helpless. For what reason, may I ask? Have we been invaded or handed a declaration of war?

Sir Morris found himself more interested in the stray hairs that had landed on the shoulder of his cloak than the complaints and questions of the man in front of him. Life at court had been like that; full of men and women squabbling over matters that either could be helped or did not matter. It was reasons like that which caused Morris to choose the life of a knight.

Finally seizing a break in the Lord’s rant, Sir Morris simply added, “My Lord, you forget. I said the King decreed you send your knights and ready your men, not me. Therefore, unless you would prefer to be branded a traitor to the crown, I would suggest you do as you are told and ask his majesty next time you meet.”

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The travel south was a tiring affair for Sir Bren the Lesser as he rode his bay stallion alongside his son and daughter. He had permitted them to travel with him on the condition that they keep up and behave accordingly. His wife, the Lady Fiona, proposed the idea as a time for tutelage and bonding that might not be achieved locked away on the castle grounds. To avoid any confrontation, Sir Bren agreed to take both children as far as Merifold where they would stay with relatives before returning by ship.

(I am probably am going to simplify and spruce up this scene as well as finish it)